The Call
by Booth's Angel
Summary: Post 1x04: Olivia needs a friend. Who will she call?


**Title: **The Call**  
Characters: **Olivia Dunham/ Peter Bishop  
**Rating: **K+**  
Spoilers: **1x04: _The Arrival_**  
Disclaimer:** _Fringe_ and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.

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She wasn't sure why she'd called him. It wasn't a number that she was all that familiar with, but he was the first person she'd thought of. She'd been in a state of shock when John had suddenly appeared in her kitchen. Now, as she cleared up the remnants of her cereal off the floor, she realized it had to be exhaustion.

She wished she hadn't made the call. She'd considered calling him back a million times over the last twenty minutes, telling him not to come. As her fingers trembled lightly around the ceramic shard, the last remnant of her cereal bowl, she realized that, despite everything, she still wanted to see him. She wanted to look him in the eye; to have him tell her that she wasn't crazy.

As she dumped the last of the wreckage from her abandoned supper into the trash, there was a knock at the door. She wiped the sweat from her palms onto her work slacks, grateful that she hadn't already changed into her boxers.

She released the lock and eased the door open. As soon as he could get his foot in the door, he barreled past her. A quick check of the surrounding rooms and, he was back at her side grabbing her shoulders to examine her closely.

"Liv? You okay? What the hell happened?" His hands pressed into her flesh on their own quest for answers. "You sounded like shit on the phone. What's going on?"

She shrugged out of his grasp and walked back to the table. The glass of scotch she'd poured was still there. It was gone in a single swallow, and she poured another.

"Want a drink?" she replied shakily. She desperately wanted to put on a front for him and act as though there were nothing going on at all, but that was simply impossible. As his eyes bore into her soul, it was impossible to hide from him.

He approached her calmly as he would a wounded animal. He took the drink from her hand and downed it quickly. "Talk to me Liv. Tell me what's going on."

"I thought I saw… it's just-" She shook her head. "Peter," she laughed nervously, "I'm so sorry. I've been working so hard that I've begun to see things."

The best course of action would be to laugh it off; to admit that she'd made a horrible mistake and hope that he'd forgive her for the late night call.

"Peter, I really am so sorry. I should never have called you."

He eyed her cautiously. She was dodging him, being evasive. Peter Bishop kept himself alive reading people. He knew she was scared. She was completely freaked out. Something had shaken her badly, but she wasn't willing to talk about it. Not yet.

"No problem." He grabbed another glass from the counter and poured two more drinks. "I might as well have another drink," he smirked. "I mean… since I'm out."

They sipped the scotch slowly this time, and Peter eased his way over to the sofa. "Quite the day… don't you think?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "It's definitely been a day. How are you feeling?"

Peter's hand automatically went up to his face. He knew he looked like hell, and for the first time he was self-conscious about it. Being around her made him conscious of his looks… his speech… of everything. He couldn't remember the last woman who'd made him feel like this. He wasn't sure there'd ever been one that made him quite so conscientious about all his flaws.

She examined him closely for the first time since he'd come through the door. The doctor's report said his wounds were all superficial… all except the concussion that is. She'd like to say he looked like hell, but as she stared into his crystal blue eyes all she could see was how wonderful he looked. How nice it was to have a friendly face next to her.

"I've had better days," he laughed.

Her hand glided across his swollen cheek and landed on his shoulder. "I'll bet you have."

Their eyes met in a look of understanding. Lines were drawn; lines that, once crossed, could never be reconfigured exactly to spec.

"I thought I saw John," she breathed. Finally she was able to take a deep cleansing breath and release all the coiled tension from inside.

There it was he sighed, the ghost in the room. "That must have been terrifying," he husked.

"I know he's gone. I know he wasn't here. It's just it was… he was so real." She shuddered slightly. "It was all just so real."

"Look Liv," Peter sighed. "In the past few weeks, I've seen and heard things I can't explain to myself, much less anyone else. It's okay to need someone. It's okay not to be okay all of the time."

"No. I'm okay. I'm always okay." She stood quickly and ran her hand along the crease in her slacks. "Look… why don't you stay? On the couch I mean. It's late. I feel bad for dragging you out… I-"

Peter looked up at her intently. He rose silently beside her. The air thickened in her lungs. She could feel a new kind of tension coiling itself around her in a constrictor-like vise. She suddenly wasn't sure if she was more afraid that he'd say yes, or more afraid that he'd say no.

He gently laid a hand along her jaw. "I think I'd better go… don't you?"

Olivia didn't even realized she'd nodded in response until the warmth of his hand left her skin and she felt the air move against her flesh. A 'NO!' constricted in her throat, ready to launch itself to freedom if she gave it half a chance. Special Agent Olivia Dunham wasn't about to let that happen.

"I'll see you tomorrow." The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, then dropped again as his hand moved away from her face. His eyes locked on hers and his mouth parted… then closed again. Peter Bishop knew when he was in over his head, and right now, he was barely treading water.

When the door closed behind him, he waited to hear the lock mechanism engage. Peter took a deep breath of the cool night air, dragging it deep into his lungs to clear his head. It had definitely been one hell of a day!

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**A/N**_: My first attempt at Fringe Fic, and **almost** my first attempt at a K+ rating. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to read more of this pairing. PMs instead of reviews are always welcome if you're shy!_

_Thanks!_


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